The Boy Who Lived A DERPY LIFE- The True Story Behind Harry Potter
by Youkari
Summary: Harry Potter this, Harry Potter that. What would happen if Harry and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named get brain damage... and if Harry had severe derps?


**The Boy Who Lived A DERPY LIFE- The True Story Behind Harry Potter**

**Part I, Chapter 1- **You're a Stinking Wizard, Harry Potter!

**Warning: **Harry is very Out of Character, which is very important for you all to know, and this is a parody, mind you!

**Before you continue onto the real chapter, I would like to tell you that this is originally supposed to be a fan comic posted on Deviant Art. A user on Deviant Art named Youkah (me) has the rights of posting the comic version of this on to Deviant Art. Therefore, don't tell me… I already know. ( :**

* * *

Harry's years in the Dursley's weren't as well as wanted… by regular people. Harry rather enjoyed sleeping in a tight spaced cupboard under the stairs, with spiders and many creepy crawlies.

His cousin, Dudley, was a fat pig, as he would commonly call him. Therefore, Harry always got punished. Dudley would beat him to pulp every day, but Harry never seemed to mind it so much now.

* * *

Okay, rewind.

Here's the story (And OMG, if you have not read the first book, stop reading and read the first book! : D) behind this.

When Harry got hurt in the head by You-Know-Who's spell, it gave both of them severe brain damage that only cause minor stupidity. Minor on Voldemort's, that is- Severe derps on Harry.

Aunt Petunia rapped very loudly on Harry's door one morning in the summer. "Get up! Get up, you scrawny boy!"

"Okay, cow!" Harry replied stupidly. He could practically feel Aunt Petunia's angriness seeping through the cupboard door.

He pulled two moldy cupcakes off of two moldy socks. Harry looked at both of these cupcakes, shrugged, and consumed them both. He put on the stiff, smelly socks and then slipped on his floppy old shoes, filled with expired candy at the bottom.

Harry flailed on his way to the kitchen. "Uh… what happening?" Harry's improper use of grammar was forbidden in the house, or once was. They soon learned that he had brain damage, and the only weight they took off of the boy was that rule being taken away. "I smell a good something cooking!"

Dudley glared at Harry. "I lost track of how many presents I have!"

"That easy." Harry said dumbly, pointing at them. "There one million present!"

Harry's obese cousin blankly looked at him and said childishly, "Good job, Harry! You were right!"

"Me was?" Harry asked Dudley, wide-eyed. "Me right! Me right! Me right, me right, me right, me RIGHT!" Harry started flailing around the kitchen, singing "Banana Bread, good!"

"Sit down! SIT DOWN!" Petunia ushered Harry into the most uncomfortable seat in the dining room. "Dudilykins, here's your birthday breakfast!" Aunt Petunia settled down a plate of 4 pieces of greasy bacon, 3 eggs over easy, 2 pancakes, and, strange enough, an orange-juice milkshake.

"Me WANT!" Harry cried. "ME WANT!"

Aunt Petunia sighed, and put 1 piece of the thinnest bacon, 1 egg over easy, half a pancake, and a very, very small glass of orange-juice.

"Me thank!" Harry beamed, hugging Petunia in approval. Petunia sighed, shaking him off.

After their breakfast, Petunia shrieked whenever she realized that Harry's baby sitter (Who actually sat on him) broke her spleen. "Dudilykins, Harry's gonna have to come to the zoo with us."

"ZOO! ME WANNA GO ZOO-ZOO!" Harry screeched. Petunia glared at the 10-year-old boy, but he kept on screeching, never noticing her warning.

"Well, how'd she break her spleen?" Uncle Vernon finally piped up after being silent for the past 15 minutes.

Petunia shrugged.

* * *

AT THE ZOO:

Wandering through the reptile house was very boring for Harry's Aunt. She didn't approve of reptiles, a stinky, slimy creature, as she always said.

But that never had changed Harry's opinion on them, anyways. He thought that they were…. Stupid. Aunt Petunia thought them to be disgusting, so that's a different thing.

Harry made a glass vanish without knowing it, staring at the Brazilian snake contained in there, dumbfounded. Dudley squealed and jumped up on bench, while Petunia shrieked, catching the fainting Uncle Vernon, her face white with plain horror.

* * *

Harry wasn't allowed out of his cupboard 24/7. Petunia just stuffed food in his face, slamming the door after. Harry saved this food and slipped it under his bed on his smelly, sweaty socks.

When 2 weeks passed by, Harry finally started eating the rotten, moldy food. Also, many owls started appearing on the street, dropping letters for Harry inside of the house.

The Dursleys and Potter had enough of this dilemma. They ran off to a broken down hut in the middle of the sea, hoping to get away from the owls and letters forever.

It was the night before Harry's birthday that they ran off to the hut, actually. Harry was awake, thinking about how good those moldy cupcakes he ate a week ago was. Then a rather loud noise made Harry stay there and his cousin jump up, and his Uncle Vernon grab the shot gun he rented and point it at the door.

The door slammed down, making a frightened Petunia squeak in fear and hide behind her husband.

"Happeh Birfday, 'Arry!"

Harry observed the hairy figure from head to toe. "Who is you?" he asked him.

"The name's Hagrid." Hagrid said. "'Ere's yer letter." Hagrid shoved a yellowed envelope to him.

"To Harry Potter, On the Floor in the Hut-" Harry started reading slowly.

Hagrid shook his head and took the letter. "I'll 'ead it, 'Arry." Hagrid read out the letter, Petunia and Vernon jumping with fright at the name of a certain school…

"Hogwarts?" Harry asked. "What Hogwarts?"

"Hogwarts is the school for Wizards." Hagrid said flatly. "And yer goin'."

"I wizard?" Harry asked.

"For goodness sake!" Petunia shrieked with a high-pitched voice. "YOU'RE A FREAKING WIZARD, STUPID HARRY!"

"Really?" Asked Harry. "Cool. Do I get free cupcakes with that?"

The four others shook their head sadly. Harry would never understand anything.

Actually, he never understood anything at all in his life.

Poor Harry!


End file.
